


The Fucked Up Kids Club

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, tw mentions of abuse, tw mentions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Michael and Gavin are two teenagers who have both suffered from abuse and broken families and find themselves in group therapy, and as they get to know each other more they start to help each other cope with their problems and become friends (orsomethingmore)





	1. Chapter 1

The first impression I ever had of “group therapy” was some catholic youth group my parents made me go to when I was fourteen. After I lost faith in god. I refused to participate in any of the activities or prayers, how were some glittered crafts and empty promises to god going to save me? The group seemed to give up on me and the leader of the group had a talk with my parents. After that they stopped taking me to meetings and dinners became pretty silent. And that was that.

But this is their next grand plan to recover me and my quickly deteriorating mental health. Group therapy. On the car ride there, I have the side of my face pressed against the cold window, listening to ‘Lover’s Spit’ on my MP3 player. Eventually we pull up to an old, beat-up brick building. It is surrounded by foliage and has vines growing up the side of it. I feel like I’m now starring in a cliche horror film, the ones that start with the family pulling up to some old creepy building. Yeah, just like that. My face scrunches up at the sight of it.

“We’re here!” My mom says cheerily. So we are.

We all exit the old, rusty mini van and make our way towards the building’s entrance. Once we reach the doors, my dad pushes one forward and we walk in. The air of the hallway is cold, a shiver running up my spine.

After five minutes of puttering around, we finally reach the room that I will most likely be spending the next month in, until they yet again realize I am a lost cause. Then I will never have to come face to face with this cold, creaky building ever again. To our left is a ballet studio, I hear music pouring from the door.

A man greets us at the open door to the therapy room and gives me a friendly smile.

“I take it this is Michael?” He asks and my parents nod. I cross my arms and look down towards my feet. I really wish I could be anywhere but here right now.

“We’re just about to get started, come on in and take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the inside of the room. “We’ll be done at around six o’clock, Mrs. and Mr. Jones.”

I walk into the room, sulking. I take a seat next to some kid with a big nose and crazy hair that sticks out all over the place and a goofy grin on his face as he listens to the girl talking next to him. The man ,who I assume is the therapist here, closes the door and walks over to sit at a chair in the center of the circle of the other plastic chairs. There are twelve kids here, I counted, including myself.

“Alright, so let’s begin!” The man at the center of the circle says.

“First of all, as you all may have noticed, we have someone new joining us today!” he exclaims and I feel my face heat up. Everyone looks in my direction and I duck my head. “His name is Michael Jones, so how about we all say ‘hello’?” And so begins a ring of unanimous greetings. I seriously feel like jumping out of a window, I hate being the centre of attention. Then he, of course, has everyone go around and introduce themselves. Each kid now has a name. The only kid that interests me is the one who sits next to me, Gavin, who has a thick British accent.

“And my name is Burnie.” The therapist says, then he claps his hands together and says, “so who wants to start off our session today?”

No one speaks for a moment, before the girl next to Gavin raises her hand. “I’ll share something…” she mumbles and Burnie urges her to go on.

“Last night, my dad hit me because I forgot to put the dishes away.” she says solemnly. And Burnie frowns and sends her a sympathetic look before saying something. “you know you did not deserve that, Lindsay, that was definitely not your fault.” Burnie assures her and she sniffles a little bit and nods.

“Do you want to share any more?” Burnie asks and Lindsay shakes her head.

“My mom used to yell at me anytime I got a bad grade, before my dad and I moved away.” Gavin says quietly. Burnie sends Gavin an understanding look. His eyes have a comforting characteristic to them. I instantly feel uncomfortable at the mention of any physical and verbal abuse. I look around anxiously for a clock and find one above the door, it is only 5:05 PM. Fuck.

It is silent before I say, “if you moved away, where did you used to live?” I look over to Gavin and gulp when he looks back at me. I didn't mean to say that, it just slipped out I didn’t-

“We used to live in England, but then my dad got a job offer here so we moved. And left my mom behind.”

“Why?”

He laughs softly and looks at me with a sad expression. “Was what I just said not obvious enough?”

I instantly feel guilty and look away. I kind of wish the ground underneath me would just open up and swallow me already.

The rest of therapy goes by slow and I start to zone out about thirty minutes into it before Burnie’s voice snaps me out of it. “Do you have anything you'd like to share about yourself before we wrap things up Michael? You don't have to, of course, but just because you're new…” he says and I look up from where I’ve been staring at the floor.

“Oh. Um. Sure, I guess,” I answer nervously. Everyone’s eyes are on me again.

“I’m 16 years old, I’ve been diagnosed with depression, OCD and general anxiety and um… I don't really like being the centre of attention.”

Burnie smiles wide, “Well, we are all about helping you overcome and cope with all of that. We’re glad to have you, Michael.”

He looks around the room before telling all of us that it is time to wrap up the session and that he is looking forward to seeing all of us next week. I cannot say the same.

My parents come to pick me up after everyone has left, at 6:15. Fifteen more minutes that I had to spend in silence with Burnie. He tried to make small talk, but I rarely responded. I eventually just walked out of the room, told him a small white lie that my parents had just texted me a message that they had arrived.

I let out a sigh of relief as I see them pull in five minutes later. I climb into the van and I feel exhausted. It’s just a matter of time before this turns out to be a failure too.


	2. Chapter 2

Jump to Tuesday of next week and I am more miserable than usual. According to my parents, I will be going to this group therapy bullshit for the whole month every Tuesday. The thought of having to sit through that every Tuesday is nauseating. My first day there I already made an ass of myself, I don't want to step foot in there ever again. I hate talking about my feelings to complete strangers.

I ramble on about all of this to a very bored looking Ray during lunch. He has a hand on his chin and he's leaning over the table, listening absentmindedly to what I'm saying and occasionally nodding along.

"It's just stupid, you know?" I say and he nods again.

"One day isn't really giving it much of a chance, dude." He notes and I scoff. I don't want to give it another chance. It feels exactly like that youth group, minus all of the crafts and prayers.

"At least give it a shot, if you actually talk to these people then they don't have to be complete strangers." He tells me. I shrug and look down at my gross cafeteria food, picking at the crusty looking hamburger I picked out. The bell rings shortly thereafter, signaling us to get our asses to class, and yet again I am left alone with my thoughts. God, I sound like such a whiny, angsty teenager. Though I guess I am.

For the of the rest of the day, I am dreading going to group again. It gets to the point where I almost rush to the bathroom to throw up from anxiety. If it's making me feel like this, why should I even give this thing a chance?

***

Now we're in the van on our way there. I still feel sick to my stomach and want to hurl. I keep thinking of everything I did wrong last time and my head is spinning from anxiety. What if I fuck up it all up again? Chances of me doing so are up to 99.9% in my mind.

When we walk into the cold confines of the building it gets even worse. Every step closer to the door I die inside just a little bit. We finally reach the door and I'm about ready to jump out of the nearest window. Again.

My father knocks softly on the wooden surface of the door and Burnie opens it, a wide smile spread across his face. He looks towards me and nods for me to come inside. My parents turn away and head for the stairs that lead back down to the door and I am left alone, abandoned. My armor is left in the cold hallway as soon as I walk through that door.

This time I do not take a seat next to Gavin. Instead I sit by some other kid, Brendon? Brandon? Some kid. Some of their names already escaping me. As Burnie sits down at the center of the circle, another pounding headache appears and I rub my temples. Where am I again and why?

“Alright, so this week we are going to be discussing coping mechanisms, as well as some free talk a little later!” He says with that same big smile plastered on his face. I feel tired before we have even begun as he asks: “So who knows what a coping mechanism is?”

A few hands shoot up and Burnie calls on Gavin.  
“Isn’t it like… Something you use to deal with a trauma or illness?” he offers quietly.

“Yes, very good, Gav!” he affirms proudly. Gavin smiles. When I look away from him I still see his smile as a painted image in my head.

Burnie then goes on to ask us about some possible coping mechanisms and we proceed to discuss these “coping mechanisms” for the next forty minutes. He acts like I’m ever going to actually throw ice cubes against the outside of my house to deal with anger. Seriously? Who the fuck does this guy think I am. Okay, so maybe none of these are pointed directly at me and I am not even participating but whatever.

Then we have free talk, and somehow, after a few stories and ideas float around, we get to the topic of death. It feels like my heart stops, or at least plummets in my chest. Fuck. I start thinking and then think some more and of course that is when the tears start to fall. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I really do not need this, not today. I try to wipe them away before anyone, especially Burnie, notices. But of course they fucking see the salty, wet traitors sliding down my freckled cheeks. Everyone’s attention is on me and Burnie has a deep frown on his face.

“Michael, is everything okay?” he asks and I nod my head.

He can tell I am lying and this only makes him frown deeper. Really, I do not need this. I don't want any of their attention nor their pity. None of that will ever bring him back. I sniffle some more and Burnie hands me a tissue and I take it gratefully. I wipe away all of my tears and try to compose myself to the best of my abilities. Everyone’s eyes are still glued on me and I hate it.

“You know, we are all here for you if you ever need to talk…That’s what this place is for.” a voice from next to Gavin pipes up, I look over to where the voice is coming from and it’s that Lindsay girl.

I look away from her almost as soon as I find her and wipe at my eyes one last time, take a deep breath.

“Will talking ever bring someone back?” I laugh sadly and she looks at me with these big, sympathetic eyes.

Burnie gives me a look that lets me know its okay to go on. Or maybe that is not what he says with them, but the sense of comfort in them make me wanna spill my guts anyway. To complete strangers.

“My real, biological dad died when I was five. He died in a car crash, some idiot kid wasn't paying attention and killed him, okay?” I mutter, my breathing choppy. “My mom remarried a few years later. She just tells me to call my step-dad “dad” because it would be disrespectful not to.” I laugh bitterly. He could never replace my dad, not ever. No matter how much she thinks he can.

“She shouldn't make you call him “dad”, that should be your decision.” Gavin says and I look up at him, where he is sitting right across from me. His mouth is set in a small frown. I give him a small smile, it’s nice to know that someone else thinks so.

“Yeah…” I whisper.

After that, they all go back to their free-talk period and I don't say anything else for the rest of group. Burnie dismisses us at 6:00 on the dot and I am glad to be out of there. But before I can make it to the door I am face to face with Gavin. He smiles at me and I force a smile back.

“You were really brave for talking today,” he says, “My first few weeks of group I barely said a single thing…Especially about my family.”

I nod because I don't know what else to do or say. He smiles at me one last time, that same smile that painted itself a special little image to keep stored away in my brain.

I see my parents pull up, and I walk outside where I am back out into the world again, with my armor on and a weird feeling in my stomach about something that I can’t quite place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not sure how often this will update, but seeing as I'm enjoying it so far and getting a few ideas I'll try to update as often as I can!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter up!! I've been busy and all that, but I'm going to try to get the next chapter out sometime this week if I can! It was a little rushed but I hope it's enjoyable haha

I wake up at 3:00 in the morning, broken out in a sweat, my shirt is soaked and I’m panting. I am mostly surprised by the fact that I didn't wake up screaming. This must be the five billionth time I’ve had this fucking nightmare. It is always the same, never changes. Sometimes it goes away for a little while and I will think that it is finally gone, but then it always comes crawling back into my head, invading my dreams like a parasite. I fall back onto the bed and bring my pillow up over my face and scream into it. She would never do that to me, she would never fucking hurt me.

In the nightmare I am a helpless, chubby-faced six year old. I am asking my mom if she will read me a bed time story and then she snaps. She picks me up, leans me over the table, removes the thin belt from the loops in her dress and then she— yeah. I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I try to go back to bed but the images keep me up, haunt me like they always do. At 5:37 AM I finally manage to fall back asleep. I have the nightmare again.

***

My third time at group we end up getting side tracked at the end. Originally, we were talking about self harm alternatives — which is when I completely zoned out. But now, we are talking about video games. Which I think is a little unprofessional on Burnie’s part, but it is free talk time I guess. Burnie and Gavin are getting into a heated debate over which weapon is the best to use in the new Grand Theft Auto game. I want to tell them that actually, the sniper rifles are better than the assault rifles, in my opinion. And I eventually give in to temptation and join in on the conversation. Gavin takes my side and Burnie is still arguing with us. I really think we should be back on track, but everyone else around is is talking about non-mental health topics, and it is 5:55 so I think we can get a little side tracked.

Burnie dismisses everyone at 6:00 and I get up eagerly to leave, but an anxious looking Gavin stops me once again. “Hello, so uh,” he says and I quirk an eyebrow at him.

“So, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come over this weekend and play some video games? I know we don't really know each other that well but since we both-“ he stutters out and I laugh. He looks terrified the moment I do.

“Seriously it’s okay, Gavin, I’d love to come over. Sounds fun.” I say and he perks up.

“Great! Here let me give you my number…” He says, pulling out his cell phone. We exchange the devices, typing our numbers into the phones.

After I hand him his phone back, he glances out the window. “Oh, my dad is here. I’ll see you later, Michael!” he says as he walks away. I cannot help but notice the way his accent twists my name. This is the only time I feel like I might be getting something out of group therapy.

I talk to Burnie some more after everyone has left and I am waiting for my parents to arrive. In a sort of heat of the moment thing, I decide to tell him about the nightmare. He nods along as I speak to show that he is paying close attention, which I appreciate. When I’m done speaking he pauses for a moment to think before saying anything.

“I think, not a hundred percent sure, but I think what you are describing might be a blocked traumatic memory. It is common for those memories to manifest themselves as nightmares.”

My mouth feels dry after he says that. But she would never do that to me. At least, I don't think she ever would. I have no time to respond as I look out the window and see my parents arrive.

“Gotta go,” I mumble and rush out of the room as quickly as possible.

No. She wouldn't do that to me.

***

Wednesday night, Gavin texts me while I’m on talking to Ray.

“Dude, he’s texting me.” I say, looking down at my phone.

“So text back, moron.” Ray says.

I hang up with Ray for a moment so I can text back.

_So when did you want to hang out?_

I stare at the bright screen of the phone for a moment before typing back a reply.

_How about Saturday night. 5:30? Ur house?_

I wait about five minutes, not taking my eyes off of the screen, for Gavin to reply.

_Sounds like a plan! :)_

I smile at the little smiling emoji he sends and text back a reply.

_Gr8!_

I call Ray back so we can go back to what we were talking about. “Maybe you could ask him about the nightmare?” Ray offers. I told him about the nightmare over lunch and he was surprisingly understanding and empathetic. “I don't know…” I say, should I really burden Gavin, someone whom I barely know, with my problems?

“Yeah, I mean, he’s got issues too. Maybe he can help you out?”

I nod thoughtfully. “I guess I can give it a try.”

***

Saturday night I am knocking on Gavin’s door, waiting for someone to open it. My parents dropped me off and drove away with a ‘goodbye’ and ‘be safe, we love you!’ and then, of course, ‘text us updates!’ I might not do the last one. His house looks small, covered by brick on the outside with a slanted roof. After a little while of waiting, I hear footsteps coming to the door from inside the house. Gavin is the one who opens the door, he’s in a baggy t-shirt with similarly baggy jeans and a pair of dirty socks. His hair is a mess. It’s endearing really.

“Well, come in then,” He says, leaving the door wide open for me as he walks back into the house.

The house is a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside. The entry way is so grand and to the left there is a long hallway leading into different rooms. To the right there is a staircase that Gavin is climbing, which I assume leads up to his bedroom. I follow him up the steps and once I reach the second floor, Gavin is standing by his bedroom door and opening it. He waves me over and we both walk into the room. “I know it’s nothing special, but I try to keep it looking nice,”

His room is a lot cleaner than mine, you would think that my room is tidy because of the OCD, but I promise that is not how it is with me. I look around the room and take in my surroundings, theres a small closet on the left wall, a twin sized bed, a desk, and a dresser with a TV and xbox on top of it. It’s a decent size and well kept, I like it. He looks nervous, like I’ll leave if I don’t think his room meets my standards, “I’m not from HGTV so don’t worry, I’m not picky.”

He grins when I say that. “Well, I don’t really have anything to sit on and my bed is kind of far away for the controller wires…I could get some blankets and put them on the floor though.” He says, going to the closet and opening a chest that’s inside of it. He pulls out some big, puffy blankets and lays them down neatly on the floor, tugging on the corners of the blanket so that it’s even.

“You’re the guest, so you can pick the game,” He says and I walk over to the dresser where games are messily splayed across the dresser. The one thing I do keep organized are my games, all in order of which ones I play the most to the ones that I don’t. I pick up Halo and show it to him, he nods. “Good choice.” He says and I turn the xbox on and open the tray, carefully placing the game at the center and push the tray in. “I’m totally going to kick your ass by the way.” I say and he laughs.

“Oh, it is on.”

***

We have been playing for two hours when we finally decide to take a break. “That was so unfair!” Gavin squawks, and I am laughing hysterically. “No, dude, that was totally justified.”

Gavin crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. I stop laughing when I remember what I told Ray I would ask him about. “Hey, Gav, could I ask you about something?”

“Yeah, of course.” He says, looking at me attentively. I feel my stomach tie up in knots, but I told Ray I’d talk to him about it. The worst thing he can do is never talk to me again, right? I take a deep breath and just blurt it out, “So, I’ve been having this nightmare about my mom and Burnie told me it might be a memory and I don’t know what to think of it.”

Gavin nods. Okay, that’s a good sign.

“Well, I mean. I used to have nightmares too, of my mom doing bad things to me too. I found out that they were actually memories after a session and it terrified me, you know? Your nightmare could just be from fear, but um—do you mind telling me what happened in the dream?” Gavin asks. He’s taking the time to invest in my problems, so I might as well tell him.

“Well, uh. In the dream I’m about six years old and my mom, she was really stressed at the time, she gets angry at me when I ask her something and she—“ I pause for a moment, I am shaking and Gavin shoots me a worried look. “I’m fine.” I say.

“She just hurts me really bad, let’s say that.” I sound like a scared five year old.

“I think, that sounds vivid enough to be a memory. I know that’s really hard or even scary to hear, but you might want to talk to Burnie about it some more.” he says with sympathy in his tone. I nod slowly, not making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I guess.” I say and it is silent for a few moments.

It starts to feel really awkward so I say with a small smile, “Up for another round?”

“Hell yeah, I am.” he says, smiling back at me.


	4. Chapter 4

That night when my parents pick me up I fall down a deep rabbit hole, all of my regular thoughts contorting into what this nightmare could be about, or if I should even worry about it at all. Maybe it was actually a memory, my mom was stressed out enough at the time, what is to say that she wouldn't eventually snap? The more I think about the nightmare, the more sick to my stomach I feel. My mom is talking to me from the front seat, asking me about how the night went. I tell her that everything went fine. She asks if I’m doing okay. I tell her that I’m fine.

A few minutes later she asks again, “Are you sure you are doing alright, dear?” I feel bile at the back of my throat when she calls me that. I have never felt like this before, pure disgust and fear both mixed together. “I promise I’m fine.” I murmur as we approach the house.

When we park the van I climb out and walk hurriedly up the sidewalk to the house. I throw open the door and run up the stairs to my room, my parents looking on, concerned. I drag myself to my room. I reach the top of the stairs and let out a sigh of relief as I close the door behind me. I fall back onto my bed and scrub my hands over my face. I don't want to think about it anymore but the thoughts of the nightmare have taken my brain hostage. I should have never gone back to that stupid group session, I should have never gone to Gavin’s house. I should have just kept to myself. Like I always used to, it is better that way.

I hear a soft knock at my door and I get under the covers as quick as I can so it looks like I’m sleeping. I screw my eyes shut as I pull the covers up over my head and I hear my mother open the door. My breathing becomes shallow as she walks closer to me. I hear the footsteps stop, then they turn away. The door shuts quietly.

That night I cannot fall asleep. I start to have this idea: If this nightmare really is a memory, what if there are any more memories that I blocked out? I would hope she would only do that once (I would hope she wouldn’t do it at all, actually). But that’s when everything really starts to go down hill. I’m like Alice from that stupid fucking Disney movie. I’ve tumbled down into the rabbit hole and there is no climbing out now.

***

In the morning, I wake up to my mom towering over me as I lay in bed. I yawn and stretch my arms above my head, then I turn to look at her. A shiver runs down my spine. Every Sunday morning we go grocery shopping together. We’ll laugh and she’ll sing along to the bubblegum pop music that they have on the loop, I’ll throw junk food that we don't need into the cart. There will be no genuine laughter coming from me today, that I know for sure.

“Get ready, honey. We’re going to be heading out shortly, okay?” I nod and smile palely. She smiles sweetly and walks out of my room. I take my time getting ready.

When I’ve made it to the bottom of the staircase, she is sitting on one of the seats in the living room, waiting. I stand in front of her and she gives me another sickly sweet smile. Without exchanging a single word, we walk out the front door and enter the van. She turns the radio on and we back out of the driveway. As we drive to the store, she talks and talks. Talking about work and the people she’s met or talked to during the week. Usually I would comment and laugh at her stories, but this time I stay silent, only nodding my head or humming out a response.

We’re at the store and I’m still not talking. Which, in retrospect, was a terrible idea because after not even five minutes of being there my mom asks, “Are you sure you’re okay, Michael? You’ve been acting weird since last night.”, her mouth in a tight line. My palms start to sweat and I can’t make eye contact with her. “Yeah I’m fine, I just…Don’t feel good?” I say, my voice breaking on the last syllable. She casts me a concerned look and I just shrug.

Okay, I’ll give you some Tylenol when we get home.” She says. Then we go back to shopping in silence. I still sneak some junk food into the cart.

When we’ve reached the check out line I still help her put all of the food on the slowly moving conveyer belt. She notices the junk food and shoots me a playful glare and I force a smile. When the cashier is done ringing us up, he hands my mother the receipt and I push the cart, now stuffed with bags of groceries, to the automatic sliding doors that lead out of the store. When we reach the van and I open the back hood of the van and we start placing the bags in the trunk.

Once we have finished putting the bags into the trunk, we get back into the van. She starts driving home with the radio turned up loud and I hum along to some of the songs. As we drive along the highway we notice a devastating car crash on the side of the road.

“So tragic…” My mother mutters.

 _What if her hand slipped on the wheel and we crashed_? I fantasize.

“Very tragic,” I say.

***

“And this is a prime example of why we need _healthy coping mechanisms_!” Burnie says, clapping his hands together. I swear he does that every five seconds.

Today we are discussing the consequences of suicide. I notice a few eye rolls as Burnie speaks, a silent circle of ‘Who really cares about me that much?’ According to Burnie, a lot of people do. I still don’t believe it.

“I know many of you have thought about it before, some of you may have even attempted…” He says solemnly, glancing over at Gavin. Huh. The air gets heavier as he goes on to say, “And some of them have even succeeded.”

I fall into a trance just thinking about suicide. How easy it can be: Just taking those pills, grabbing that kitchen knife, filling up the bath tub and not coming up from the water to breathe. I shutter at the thought. But then I feel the adrenaline rush, and no. I told myself I wouldn’t. That I would never have those thoughts again.

Gavin has this guilty look on his face as Burnie speaks and I cannot help but wonder why. Did he…? Gavin must notice me staring because he hangs his head and stares at the floor for half of the session until Burnie asks, “What are some reasons a person might think to commit suicide?”

Gavin raises his hand timidly. Burnie nods in his direction and Gavin clears his throat, his eyes are glazed over. “You think you don’t matter, you…You just don't want to have to deal with what you’re going through anymore. It becomes to much and it’s just so bloody easy to…” He says, choking on his words at the end.

“But,” he says after a moment. “You are cared about and loved,” He casts a glance my way. “Things will get better.”

I still don’t believe that. But the way Gavin looked at me makes my cheeks flare up.

***

I am lying in bed that night, tossing and turning. I feel so hot all over that I could throw up and I can’t stop thinking about the nightmare and what we talked about during group today. What if I did kill myself? Who would really care? No one thats fucking who. Everyone would forget about me eventually, it would be like I was never here.

I want to scream into my pillow, I want to throw and destroy everything I own. This is the worst I have ever felt. My mother probably hates me, how could you hurt your child like that and say you love them? I groan and blink away the tears that are forming. No, I am not fucking crying.

In that moment I have every reason to die, everything I am thinking feels so real and rational. I grab my phone with shaky hands. I send Ray a text, then I send Gavin the same one. Gavin won’t care, he barley knows me. But he has been so nice to me.

_Goodbye._

I creep slowly and as quietly as I can to the bathroom across the hall. My parents are sound asleep, they won’t know. I turn on the light and blink rapidly to adjust to it. I lock the door than I open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and scan through the various bottles. There are vitamins, cough syrup, Tylenol, and— Bingo.

I take the sleeping pills from off of the shelf and try to open it.

“Fucking child proof caps…” I mutter, fumbling with the white, plastic bottle.

When the bottle finally opens with a ‘click’ I pour the tablets into my hand. Five should be enough. I fill the glass by the sink with water and I pop the pills into my mouth then chug the water down.

The pills all mix together into this stale, vile taste in my mouth and I want so badly to spit it out. But no, I have to do this. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

I hear sirens outside of my house, but the sound of my heart pounding drowns it out. I hear my parents door open, my mom is banging on the bathroom door, but the pounding of my heart drowns that out too. My vision starts to get blurry and I lose my balance and fall back onto the wall and slide down to the floor.

Then, darkness. I wonder if they’ll love me in Heaven. or Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i didn't necessarily post it this week, but it's still the weekend so that kinda counts right?


	5. Chapter 5

The windows of the ambulance showcase the pitch black night, drowned out by the bright lights of the overhead street lamps that line the highway. I feel the ground moving beneath the vehicle I am in, the road is bumpy and the sound of the road outside is deafening. The lights of the ambulance—Wait—Why the fuck am I in an ambulance? My eyelids are heavy as I stare at the ceiling. Oh that’s right, I took those fucking sleeping pills. Shouldn’t I be dead? Shouldn’t I be flying with the angels or burning in hell? And— “Oh, good, you’re awake!”

I look over to my side where I see a lady in scrubs with her hands clasped together, the look in her eyes is one of relief. I feel my eyes burn and my stomach clench, I don’t want to be here. I wanted to be dead, I never wanted to be here. What are they going to do with me? I’m about to find out as we pull into the hospital parking lot, stopping right by a set of sliding doors with a sign that says ‘EMERGENCY’ above them. When the vehicle comes to a final halt, the doors to the back of the ambulance open and one woman, who I assume is the driver, and the lady who was with me in the back, prop up the stretcher I am strapped into and start unloading me out of the back.

I hear car doors shut and see my parents rushing up behind us. My mother is in tears and my father’s face is set stone cold. The worst part is that I don't even feel guilty. It feels like my guts have been turned inside out and I want so desperately to just throw up already, but I keep the bile down. The ladies from the ambulance wheel me into the small, sterile hospital lobby. We pass through multiple white corridors, it’s night so almost everyone is asleep, It’s so quiet. Finally we come to a stop at a faux wooden door, the ladies open it and begin to unstrap me from the gurney. When I am able to sit up, the women tell me to go lay down on this flat, cushioned bench in the room, so I get up to do just that.

I step down from the gurney and approach the bench; It’s this emerald green color and there are cracks all over it with foam over flowing from some of the holes, but it looks clean enough. I lie down on the bench and it’s cold, making me feel rigid and uncomfortable. After a few minutes of dead silence a nurse walks into the room, she has gentle eyes and a sweet smile, the ladies from the ambulance exit the room. The nurse tells my parents that they may stay in the room, so they do, taking a seat at the plastic, fold-out chairs in the corner of the room. The nurse starts asking me all kinds of questions, I answer all of them absent-mindedly, I feel so numb to everything. I have fallen into some kind of trance, stuck in a state of mind where nothing feels real.

I’ve zoned out for so long, only to be brought back to reality as I feel the pinch of a needle being inserted into my arm. I hiss at the feeling and the nurse says calmly, “We only need to give you the IV so we can give you some fluids until you're more stable.”

I nod and my arm feels sore.

After that, the nurse walks us out of the room and into a hallway of closed curtains. She approaches one and opens it, revealing a tiny make-shift room. There is a bed with a little flat, table surface sticking out of it, a tower of medical equipment on the right side of the bed, and three chairs on the left side. The nurse has me sit down on the bed and my parents sit down at the chairs. She tells us that she is going to get a “pouch of fluid” to hook up to the IV.

It is dead silent as we wait, neither my parents nor I exchanging a single word. When she returns, she is holding two things: A pouch of clear fluid and a foam cup. She sets the cup down on the little table-thing that is attached to my bed.

“What is that?” I ask.

The cup is filled up halfway with some sort of foreign black liquid that looks like some sort of monster blood you'd see in a horror movie. My face scrunches up as I get a whiff of it. It smells fucking terrible that’s for sure.

“That is liquid charcoal, you have to drink the whole thing so it can absorb all of the medicine and get it out of your system.”

I nod my head hesitantly as I pick up the cup and tip some of the liquid into my mouth. I immediately want to spit it out. It tastes like rancid cough syrup or something. It is disgusting. It’s feels so dry in my mouth that I start sputtering and coughing. My mom flashes me a concerned look, but I can't meet her gaze. I decide to drink the charcoal is small, measured sips.

***

It’s still pitch black out and probably somewhere around the AM, when my parents have left and I’m all alone in my room, that the severity of what I’ve done starts to sink in. But there is no tinge of guilt there yet. I feel like gravity is holding me down, or I might get smote the minute I stand up. At that youth group they made sure to hammer it into our heads that suicide was a sin, so…

The charcoal “milkshake” that isn't settling well in my stomach is only making matters worse. I have a head splitting headache and I cannot sleep, if I even attempt to, I will wake up every twenty goddamn minutes, so sleep is out of the question at this point. I scoot up the bed to where my head meets the top of the pillow and I stare at the ceiling for a while.

About an hour later, I count the minutes, I feel someone tap me on the shoulder.

“I have to take your vitals,” the nurse from earlier whispers. I nod my head tiredly and stick out my arm so she can wrap the inflating cup around it. After telling me that my blood pressure is normal now, she tells me that they will be sending me to a mental hospital called ‘Safe Haven’ in the morning. I don’t completely trust the name. A fucking mental hospital, what a wacky situation I’ve put myself into. Ray would probably be laughing his ass off about this one. Or maybe not.

The thought of Ray sends me into a spiral of thoughts, wondering how he’s feeling right now, that keeps me up until sunlight starts to peak into the windows above my bed.

***

At lunch time, the nurse tells me I have a visitor. I raise a brow at her, who the fuck besides my parents would want to visit me in this state? I tell her it’s okay to let whoever is visiting to come see me and she goes to get the mystery person. After waiting for five minutes, I really have nothing better to do than count the time, I see the nurse walking with someone at the end of the hallway. As the come closer I can make out who she is guiding to my room. It’s Gavin.

I honest to God am shocked when I see him. He barley knows me and—

“Hi Michael,” Gavin says quietly as he stands at the end of my bed.

“I’ll give you too some privacy,” the nurse says before I can respond, closing the curtain behind her.

“You can sit down you know,” I tell Gavin and he nods, pulling up a plastic chair right next to my bed.

“You don’t even have a TV in here?” Gavin asks and I shake my head, “Nope.”

Gavin hums and looks around the tiny room. “I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing… I got your text.”

I nod and his eyes look blank, emotionless. “Do you regret it?” He asks and I shake my head again. Nope.

He gulps and it’s silent for a few minutes before he blurts out, “I called the ambulance.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, he doesn't even know where I live. I must've said this aloud because he laughs nervously and says, “Well, actually I called Burnie first—He has all of our home addresses and all that rubbish—and then I called an ambulance to your house as fast as I could.”

The guilt that wasn't there before now feels too overwhelming to bare. My breathing starts to get shaky, “What if I didn't want you to call an ambulance?”

“Well, your parents probably would've called one for you anyway, yeah?”

I guess.

Then I start to feel a sudden anger bubble up inside me. I wanted to die. The logical rationale that my parents would've called one anyway doesn't make sense in that moment as I tell Gavin, “get out.”

He casts me a hurt look and I don't care. I don’t, I don’t. Do I? No. “I said get out.”

“But, Michael—“ he stutters.

“Gavin, please,” I whisper.

“I didn't mean to—“ okay, his stuttering is starting to annoy me.

“Get out!” I shout and he looks scared. Shit.

He scrambles up from his chair and bolts out of the room, his actions remind me of a frightened mouse.

The guilt is still there, eating me alive.

***

By dinner time, my parents have returned and my mother’s face is red, her eyes puffy, like she’s been crying.

“They’re taking you to the hospital now, Michael.”

But I’m already in one, can't I just stay here? I don’t want to go to some looney-bin, I’m not crazy. But arguing with the staff will get me nowhere, they'll probably force me anyway, they’d put me in a straight jacket or something.

And so we wait for another hour for the ambulance to arrive, the one that will take me away for who knows how long. When it finally gets here, another gurney is presented to me. They say it will be about a two hour drive, it must be secluded from the city or something. That’s not surprising I guess.

I am strapped into the uncomfortable surface of the gurney gain, a blanket being put over me for “comfort.” Is it really possible to ever be comfortable in one of these things?

But they don’t care, they’ll take me away anyway. I see my mother crying, blowing her nose into a tissue as they wheel me away from her. _You’re one of the reasons I’m even in this situation_ , I think.

And so they take me away, off into the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this might be the longest chapter I've written so far, I just started writing in my notebook on Friday and couldn't stop!


	6. Chapter 6

The silence of the next ambulance ride drags on and on and it is dark outside, but I cannot fall asleep. I toss and turn in the uncomfortable padded gurney; the ambulance ladies are talking to each other in whispered voices. I should be able to drown them out, but the otherwise silent vehicle causes them to sound even louder than they intend to be. The drive feels like it is taking hours upon hours, when—in reality—it has only taken probably just about an hour. I start to count the seconds, then minutes and then hours. How far away from the city is this fucking place?

After what I have counted, and what the nurse confirms to be, two and a half hours, we finally arrive. We pull into a deserted parking lot. There is a building surrounded by foliage and different types of brightly colored flowers. We come to a stop at a ginormous gate, and I think to myself, _“seriously, what the hell?”_

Once we have pulled into the gated area, the lady who has been sitting next to me in the back of the ambulance opens the doors—and here, _here_ is where I contemplate just jumping out and running like hell—but, then I remember I am strapped down. I also remember how far away from home I am. I can’t but feel a sense of dread at that thought, so very far away from home.

The lady who has been driving us also gets out and I see her approach the back of the ambulance. “Alright, let’s unload him!”

I swallow hard and fight back the words I so badly want to shout out: “take me home! I don’t want to be here!”

The lady at the back, outside of the ambulance, begins to unhinge a slanted ramp from the back of the vehicle to make getting me out easier. The two ladies begin to lift up the gurney and push me down and out. When I am down and on the ground, they start to wheel me to a set of sliding doors that open when as we inch closer. Another lady who is dressed up in scrubs, and who I assume is a nurse, is waiting for us at the doors.

The ambulance women push my further inside the building after we enter through the doors. The walls and floor are both white, it’s kind of making me uncomfortable how sterile it appears to be. The nurse is talking to the ladies as they take me down a hallway until we reach another door. This is where they decide to free me from my bonds. Both of the women carefully unbuckle and unravel the straps so I can finally sit up.

“Go ahead and get down, sweetie,” Says one of the ladies. The pet-name she uses makes me cringe, but she doesn't seem to notice. I climb down from the gurney and the ladies say their goodbyes to the nurse and exit the building with the squeaky gurney. Goodbye old friend.

“You can follow me,” The nurse says with a kind smile, leading me down the hallway.

She opens the door at the end and it leads into another hallway. But this one leads into different rooms at the end. One opening on the left wall leads into what looks like the nurses’ area, the door at the end of the hall is a small, saloon-like door that leads into a noisy lobby and there are more miscellaneous rooms on the right wall — some are at the end and I can’t really see them yet.

Once we reach the end of the hallway, she has me take a seat on one of the few plastic chairs that line the left wall. “One of the other nurses will be here in a moment,” she says before walking into the nurses’ station.

I kick my legs back and forth as I wait. Across from me I look up to see a girl in a dark room that has no door. She is sleeping on a blanket and the walls are painted to look like a sandy beach, seagulls flying around and all. I am left to wonder what that room is all about. But I have no time to take it in completely as another nurse with a sweet smile approaches me.

“I assume you are Michael Jones?” The nurse asks me and I nod curtly.

She sits down in the chair next to me and pulls out a clipboard and a packet of paper. “I just need to ask you some questions, and then we can take you to your parents to get everything set up.”

I feel sick at the mention of seeing my parents, but I don't say anything.

I spend the next ten minutes answering questions for the nurse, and by the end I feel like I know myself better than I ever have before. I feel weird explaining myself to a complete stranger, but she's a professional so I guess it could be worse. It isn't like my first session of group—telling these complete strangers all about my life. It’s not as bad as spilling my guts to Gavin, who I told to fuck off not that long ago.

When we finish the nurse guides me through the lobby where there is a room and more hallways. The inside is a lot warmer and not as sterile as the entrance was.

She takes me to a room down another hallway and she opens a door and ushers me in. I walk in hesitantly and look up to see my mother crying and my step-father with his mouth set in a straight line. I sit down at the chair at the corner of the room, not wanting to sit that close to either of them.

I zone out as the doctor talks to my parents, I make out some basic stuff like an approximation on how long my stay will be (about a week he says) and my parents answer a few questions for me. I am snapped out of it when the nurse comes back in to take me away, my mother is sobbing now but I feel too out of it to feel anything.

***

There are apparently multiple “day rooms” for the patients to stay in on the girls’ side, but on the boys’ side there are only two rooms. I am taken to the room right by the nurses’ station in the lobby. The room is primarily purple, a huge mural on the main wall and there are windows that peak into one of the courtyards where there is a plastic play-place for children. The room is buzzing with energy and people are talking and acting as if they're not even in a mental hospital. I take a seat at one of the big chairs that take up the back side of the room.

I sit there for a while, quietly reading a book that I picked up from a cart right next to the chairs. There is a TV mounted on the wall, but right now everyone is just listening to music from a stereo. No one approaches me for a while, but then someone does and I look up from my book. He has a plain white shirt on and baggy jeans that go past his shoes.

“Hey, I’m Caleb, you looked kinda alone over here so I figured I’d say hi,” he says and I nod slowly and extend a hand to him, “I’m Michael.”

“Oh,” he says with a laugh, “We’re not allowed to touch each other here.”

“…Why not?” I ask quizzically, lifting a brow at him.

“Y’know, for anyone in here for physical abuse and stuff like that—Some people freak out.”

“Oh.”

He shifts uncomfortably and I act fast. “Do you wanna sit down or something?” I ask and he nods with a small smile.

He takes a seat next to me and he glances over at the book in my lap.

“Whatcha reading?”

“Oh, um, it’s a book about some knight who has to fight a dragon to save a princess. Pretty boring but—“

“I think it sounds okay.” He says and flashes me another smile and this time I smile back. The smile feels fake, but I’m just not feeling too cheery right now.

We sit in silence for a while before a man who has been sitting at a desk at the front of the room says, “Alright boys, time for dinner.” and he claps his hands together. It reminds me of Burnie, and I think I would trade this whole hospital thing for group therapy right about now.

Caleb stands up and I decide to follow him. Everyone lines up single-file at the door before the guy in charge opens the door to lead us to where we’re going.

I can already tell this is gonna be the longest week of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait and how rushed this chapter turned out to be! I have been super busy and just sat down and wrote this chapter all in one sitting. Hopefully the next chapter will make up for this one!


	7. Chapter 7

The first night I decide not to take advantage of ‘phone time.’ The idea of talking to my parents, or anyone, at this point makes me feel even more sick to my stomach than I already am.

After phone time, everyone is told to go to bed for the night. The nurse from the dayroom shows me to my respective room, where I am told I will be alone until some new patient comes in. The nurse then goes on to inform me that a patient might be coming in during the middle of the night to room with me. I cannot wait to be woken up for that.

As I lie in bed I stare up at the ceiling for I don’t know how long. I hear footsteps nearing the door after what I have counted to be two hours. There really is not anything for me to do but count the seconds, minutes, hours.

The dim light from the hallway now pours into the room as the door is fully opened. They leave every door cracked open so they can make sure we’re not banging our heads against the walls or trying to escape. To make matters worse, a nurse turns on the light and I start to develop a headache. I groan quietly and roll over onto my side to see who they are brining in.

There is a kid, who looks to be older than me, standing by the nurse at the door. He has soft-looking, wavy brown hair and soft features. He’s actually pretty good looking. Even though his face is soft, it is pretty nicely sculpted.

“Ryan, you’ll be in the bed next to Michael’s, the bed is already made for you.” The nurse whispers and ‘Ryan’ nods his head.

Ryan makes his way over to the bed, setting down a big, brown paper bag next to one of the shelves that is against the wall on his side of the room. The nurse turns off the lights and the room goes dark again.

***

When i wake up Ryan is already out of the room. I blink wearily and start to move, stretching my arms up, over my head and arching my back. I sit up and yawn, it is way too early in the morning to be waking up.

“But I still don’t know what time it is,” I think and huff at my own thought.

I push the covers aside and notice a brown, paper bag, similar to Ryan’s, that reads “Michael’s clothes” in messily scrawled sharpie. I dig around in the bad and find a red t-shirt along with some battered jeans. Good enough.

I feel too self-conscious to change in a room with the door wide open, so I walk over to the bathroom and jiggle the door handle. It’s fucking locked, of course.

I sigh and walk out into the hallway to hunt down someone who can unlock it for me. When I walk our, only two people are sitting in the hallway. Ryan and some other kid, whom I do not know the name of. Ryan has his nose buried in a book, paying no attention to me as I walk to the wrap-around counter in front of the nurses’ station.

I see a line of people who look to be taking medicine. They throw back little cups of pills onto their tongues, downing them with Dixie cups filled with water.

After the line has dispersed, I walk up to the counter and wait for someone to notice me. I tap my fingers against the counter’s surface impatiently until a nurse comes up to me.

“How can I help you, sweetie?”

“Could someone unlock my bathroom door?” I ask her politely.

“Of course,” She responds with a sweet smile, picking up a keyring full of miscellaneous keys.

She walks to my room and I trail behind her. Once we enter my room, she unlocks the bathroom door and I tell her a quick thank you before going in. I take off my old clothes and slip on the fresh t-shirt and pants.

After walking out of the bathroom, I make my way to the hallway and sit down on the floor next to Ryan. The hallway is starting to fill up more and more as the minutes pass by. I see Caleb walk out of the room across from mine and he waves at me so I wave back. Caleb crosses the hall and sits down next to me.

“Who is that?” Caleb whispers, eyeing Ryan.

“His name is Ryan, he’s my new roommate, I guess.” I respond.

“Alright, boys, it’s time to head to the dayroom.” I hear one of the nurses say. He is a man of average height, with tired eyes, a beard and a shit-load of tattoos and a couple of piercings.

The tattooed guy tells all of us to get up and follow him to dayroom A. I walk behind Ryan and Caleb walks behind me.

It is a short walk to the dayroom, it’s only down the hall. The nurse opens the door for all of us and he closes the door behind himself.

“My name is Geoff, and I’ll be your dayroom leader today, whoopee.” Geoff says, slumping down into a chair behind a desk at the front of the room.

Someone turns on the television and a steady stream of music comes out. Ryan takes a seat in one of the big chairs in front of the windows. I decide to sit a few chairs down from him and Caleb follows suit, sitting down next to me.

“So…”, I say, looking at Ryan, “Why are you here?”

Ryan looks up from his book for once and stares at me.

“None of your business.”

Okay then.

“Well, could you at least tell me what you're reading?” I ask and he shrugs.

“I guess.”

I nod for him to go on and he passes me the book. The book titles reads “Lullaby” and the author is a familiar name to me, Chuck Palahniuk.

“A good book,” Caleb says, looking over my shoulder.

I’ve only ever read Fight Club, and it wasn’t too bad.

Ryan nods and takes the book back from me and continues to read.

***

After lunch, we have phone time again. This time I take advantage of it. Someone brought up Halo at lunch, which made me think of Gavin, which made me think of how guilty I feel for telling him to leave me at the hospital. I think I still remember his number.

Really, I should just be calling Ray or my parents, someone I know. But I’m just calling to apologize, that’s all.

I pick up one of the phones and dial the number. It turns out to be a real number as I hear the phone ring from the other side. Someone picks up and I heave a sigh of relief as I hear that familiar British voice.

“Hello?”

“Gavin, hey.” I breathe into the phone.

Gavin makes a surprised noise on the other end.  
“Michael, is that you?”

I snicker, “No dipshit, it’s the other Michael.”

“Oh, thank God it’s you! Are you okay? We’ve all been so worried.” Gavin says.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I guess.” I say. As good as you can be when you're stuck in the fucking looney-bin.

 

“Thank God, like I said, we’ve all been worried.” Gavin says and I doubt that.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really!” He says. I still don’t believe him.

“Okay.”

“When do you think you’ll get out?” Gavin asks and I shrug, even though I know he cannot see me.

“They said within a week or so.” I tell him.

“That must feel like a long time in there.” He says with a sad laugh.

“Tell me about it.”

There is a pause before I say, “I really don’t want to be here, Gav.”

“Well, the best you can do is try to cooperate and you’ll be out of there before you know it.” Gavin assures me, but I don’t feel any better.

I feel my eyes start to burn, but no, I can’t cry in front of everyone. Have to just suck it up.

“Five more minutes, guys.” Geoff calls out and I curse under my breath.

“I gotta go, but I’ll try and talk to you later.” I say and Gavin tries to say something, but I hang up first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the big wait! I've been having major writer's block lately and was contemplating discontinuing the story, but it is too near and dear to my heart for me to do that. I will try to continue this story the best I can, and again, I apologize for the wait! I will try to get the next chapter out a little sooner.


	8. Chapter 8

“Can anyone in here describe a healthy relationship for me?” Geoff asks the group.

It’s time for therapy and I feel bored already. Ryan isn't even paying attention, still too invested in that book to pay attention. Caleb is listening, though, his eyes attentive and solely focused on Geoff. That makes one of us.

The room is dead silent and no one raises their hand. Geoff sighs and reads off the definition of a “healthy relationship” from his notes.

“A healthy relationship is when two people develop a connection based on respect, trust, and honesty.” He says, sounding bored already.

“Can anyone at least give me an example?” Geoff tries, yet again, no one raises a hand.

Geoff groans and scrubs his hands over his face, “Okay then.”

The irritated nurse folds his arms and there is a pause before he picks up his notes again.

“Let me go over the definition again.“

I zone out again. It’s not like we are going to be fucking tested on any of this shit, right?

“—The person you are in the relationship with will be there for you to support you, and they will stick with you no matter what.”

My mind flashes for a moment, back to when I was sitting in that uncomfortable hospital bed. Gavin right there next to me. I think back to us at Gavin’s house, his eyes filled with concern when I told him about the nightmares.

“Now, could anyone give me an example?” Geoff asks, exasperated.

Over to my left I see Caleb raise his hand. Geoff has this look on his face that says: “fucking finally.”

“Like, maybe when someone in the relationship is having a hard time and the other person doesn't give them a hard time and is understanding?”

“Good job, Caleb. Perfect.” Geoff says with a relaxed smile.

I don’t bother participating in group as time drags on. One part of me would rather be in group with Burnie right now. Geoff’s not a bad guy, but I miss home. As much as I don’t want to confront my parents ever again after this, I miss Ray. I miss Gavin.

***

During dinner, I sit with Ryan and Caleb. Ryan’s face, for once, is not covered by some random novel and I feel like I’m seeing his face for the first time all over again.

I stare at the steaming, gloopy sauce covering the chicken on Ryan’s plate. Caleb and I didn’t like the main course for the night, so we ended up stuck with PB&J sandwiches. Yum.

Ryan doesn’t talk, just picks at his food. I can only guess what Ryan is in here for.

“Not hungry?” Michael asks casually.

Ryan shakes his head, “Not really.”

I don't say anything for a while after that. The other side of the table is lively, full of banter and laughter. Ryan doesn't talk at all really, he’s so mysterious. Nothing like the open book Caleb is. Caleb spent all of the time after group explaining why he was here and that he only had to stay for two more days, according to his doctor. Ryan had listened to, even though he had a book in his lap, I could tell he was listening.

Ryan clears his throat, “I’m here because—“

Ryan stops himself.

“I’m bulimic. Since you guys asked.”

“Oh,” I says “I’m so sorry, man.”

Ryan laughs under his breath, “Not your fault,”

“Still,” I murmur.

“So, why are you here then? If you want to share.” Ryan asks. Caleb switches his gaze from his sand which to me, eyes attentive. Waiting for me to spill my guts.

“Well, it all started with this nightmare—”

***

After dinner it was time to shower. Because, apparently, every night at Safe Haven all the boys had to take showers. Only one person was allowed in one bathroom at a time, there were four bathrooms. So you can imagine how fucking long this process is.

I know the wait will be long, so on a whim I decide to ask for my extra phone call. The point system they have here allows you to have two phone calls a day if you're at level two, which is where I’m at. Once you're a level three, you get three phone calls a day and so on.

“Yes you can have your extra phone call,” Geoff says with a nod of approval.

“Thanks, Geoff,” I say quickly and rush to the line of phones against the wall and pick one up.

I hesitate momentarily before punching in Gavin’s number. The phone rings for what feels like forever until Gavin finally picks up.

“Who is it?” Gavin says tiredly.

“It’s Michael.”

“Oh!” Gavin says, instantly perking up.

“Listen, I’m really sorry I told you to get out of the hospital, and for hanging up on you the other night…I can kind of be a dick.”

“Ah, it’s alright mate,” Gavin says with a chuckle, “you’re no prick, just stressed is all.”

Michael laughs breathily into the phone and he hopes Gavin can tell that he’s smiling.

“So, how’s it going by the way?”

“Oh my God, it’s awful, dude,” Michael says exasperatedly.

Gavin laughs, “I couldn’t even imagine,”

“Damn right you can’t, it’s miserable and I can’t wait to—“ Michael stops himself for a minute.

“Can’t wait to what?”

“Get out of here, I guess. But.”

“But what?” Gavin asks curiously.

“I don’t want to go home to my parents…”

“Oh,” Gavin pauses, “where would you go then?”

“I don’t know… Ray’s house… Your house?”

Gavin doesn't say anything for a moment.

“My house?”

“Yeah,” Michael says, “would that be okay?”

“Of course it would ya’ dope, but I don’t know if they'd let you go home with us.”

“Maybe if I tell them about the situation—“

“You can try, but I’m just sayin’.”

“I’ll try, Gav.”

“Okay, just be safe alright?”

Michael laughs, “Of course I’ll be alright.”

“I don’t know if I completely trust you on that,” Gavin says solemnly and Michael feels a sense of guilt course through him.

“Gav, I’m sorry—I just—“

“It’s okay, Michael,” Gavin assures him, “you don't have to apologize.”

“Michael! You’re up!” I hear Geoff call out.

Michael curses under his breath, “I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay,” Gavin says, “Again, be safe,”

“I’ll try my best,” Michael says, then hangs the phone up.

_“Like, maybe when someone in the relationship is having a hard time and the other person doesn't give them a hard time and is understanding?” Caleb’s voice says from the back of my mind._

As I shower, I remember when I was back at Gavin’s house. The TV starting to make my eyes sting from how long we had been playing. Gavin’s laugh, Gavin’s smile. Just, Gavin.

Michael smiles at the memory, but then he shakes his head.

“You’ve barely known him for two months,” He mutters to himself.

“But he’s so—“ He thinks, but he is cut off mid-thought when there is a loud knock at the door.

“You okay, buddy?” Geoff’s voice calls through the door.

“Peachy.” Michael shouts back, voice echoing throughout the isolated, cold bathroom.

Michael turns the water off, droplets running down his back.

_“But he’s so…Understanding.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the stuff about 'Safe Haven' is actually based on my own hospital experience. It sucked, my friends. So it's definitely sucking for Michael too.
> 
> Also!! I made a mixtape for this fic, you can listen to it here! --> https://8tracks.com/micoojones/the-fucked-up-kids-club


	9. Chapter 9

I do eventually, finally, get out of the fucking hospital. I get hugs from everyone, including Caleb and Ryan while Geoff “isn't looking.”

One part of me wishes I could've gotten to know Caleb and Ryan better, especially Ryan. He’s just so mysterious. But I almost feel accomplished to get a hug from the guy, he barely even talked to me the first day, but soon we all became this little group.

Nonetheless, I’m fucking excited to get out of this place. But, I have to wait until six o’clock at night.

We also set everything up so Gavin and his dad will be coming to pick me up. I don’t know how we did it, but a little bit of what some might consider “guilt-tripping”, here we are.

The whole day is all the same routine, and I spend it all with Caleb and Ryan. Caleb is getting out today too, and we both feel bad leaving Ryan behind. Ryan says he doesn't mind though because, “he always has his books.”

Me and Caleb laugh at that.

“Dude, you’re such a nerd.” I tease and Ryan smiles.

When six o’clock finally rolls around, I have my paper bags filled with my clothes and “mental health guides” and “coping skills” that Geoff made me take home. Geoff’s such a nice and relaxed dude that I couldn't not take his advice, y’know?

Geoff and all of the other patients say goodbye to me for the very last time, some congratulating me and I tell them all thank you before walking out. I’m so glad to be leaving this hell-hole.

Or, maybe it’s not so bad. But you can only read the same books and color in the same coloring books so many fucking times. It starts to make you feel more ill than you already are.

A nurse guides me through the hallways of the hospital until we reach a set of doors at the end of the hallway where the day rooms are. The nurse gives me one last smile as we walk through the doors and come to a waiting room just outside of the area that leads to the cafeteria.

I recognize Gavin sitting at the far corner of the room, shaking his foot above the ground. The sight makes me smile.

Gavin turns and notices me and returns my smile. The nurse leaves us as I rush toward Gavin. Gavin pulling me into a tight hug.

“My dad already signed you out, so just follow me to the car.” He says as we pull apart.

I nod my head and trail after him.

“Do you need help with any of those bags?”

“Nah I’m good.” I say, just feeling good enough that I’m going home with Gavin and don’t have to face my parents yet.

They must have been outraged when they saw that they wouldn't be taking me home. So, I might be making this worse for myself, but I can’t be bothered to care right now.

When we reach the car Gavin opens the door and I climb in, Gavin getting in after me and closing the door.

Gavin’s father is at the front and turns on the ignition, “Ready to go boys?” he asks.

We both nod eagerly and we begin the long drive home.

“I swear, this place is in like, the middle of nowhere.” I mutter to Gavin and he snickers.

“Tell me about it, it took us forever to get here.”

I spend the rest of the car ride telling Gavin about how my visit was. I tell him about Ryan and Caleb, namely.

After a while, I start to doze off and find my eyelids slipping shut as sleep takes over me.

***

When we get to Gavin’s house, it’s dark outside. I blink blearily and lift my head from Gavin’s shoulder. Shit.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I—“

“No worries,” Gavin says with a reassuring smile.

Gavin opens the car door and we all get out. Gavin insists on taking my bags inside, since I carried them the first time.

When we get to the door, Gavin’s dad pushes it open and we walk into the big foyer. Gavin immediately heading to the stairs. For a second, it looks like he’s going to lose his balance and I feel a sense of worry. Luckily, he regains his composure and continues walking up the stairs, so I follow him.

Gavin walks up the stairs slowly, so he doesn't drop anything he says. We finally reach Gavin’s bedroom and he sets the bags down so he can open it. I take one bag and he takes the other as we walk into his room.

We set the bags down on the floor at the foot of Gavin’s bed and Gavin lets out a, “Phew.”

Gavin takes a seat on his bed and I follow suit. We sit in this kind of tired silence for a few minutes before either of us says anything.

“Thank you,” I say, “for everything. For saving me.”

“Ah, it was nothin’.”

“But it was something,” I say.

Silence again.

“Michael I—“

I don't let Gavin speak any further as I draw him in closer to me, our lips pressing together. Gavin makes a surprised noise, but it is muffled by my mouth. The kiss is soft and gentle, not rushed in any way. Gavin is frozen for a minute and I’m about to pull away until he puts his hands in my hair and reels me in even closer. Gavin falls back onto the bed and I fall down with him, my chest pressing against his. Everything is warm and I feel butterflies in my stomach.

When we both pull away, Gavin’s pupils are blown and his lips are red and slick. He is panting heavily and I am too. I feel too tired to move from where I am, so I stay lying against Gavin. Gavin’s hands still playing with my hair and I make a noise of contentment as his fingers run through my curls.

“You are lovely, Michael,” Gavin whispers and I chuckle.

“Thanks. You too, Gav,” I say lazily.

We stay like this for what feels like hours upon hours. Just sitting in comforting silence while I lie on top of Gavin, who is still playing with my hair.

I sigh and nuzzle into him further and he moves his hands from my hair to my back and hugs my tight to him.

This is where I want to be forever.

“You’re not in this alone, Michael, you don’t have to be. Not when I’m right here,”

“That was so cheesy, Gav.” I murmur and he laughs.

“I know, now let’s go to sleep.”

So we do, and I never want to leave this bed. Right here, where we are peaceful and content. Right here, where we aren't in the fucked up kids club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the story is finished!! this was never intended to be a long, slow burn story but I hope it was enjoyable! Thank you to everyone who stuck with me on this and read it! <3
> 
> Also, because I can't resist a shameful self-promo, I'm working on another story right now called Reinventing the Scene and its another mavin story, but a band au!! so feel free to check that out if u want to see more chaptered stories from me!


	10. orphaning this work!

just a little update,

okay, so this story has been creating this conflict within me. I find that it has just become something I'm not comfortable having my name attached to anymore. I don't hate the story by any means, it still has its own special place in my heart! But I just simply want it detached from my name, and I hope thats understandable. I do, however, want this story to live on for those who did enjoy it and may continue to read it. So I will simply be orphaning the work. It's been nice knowing you The Fucked Up Kids Club <3


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